The Best Days of Our Lives
by notkamers
Summary: Chapter 2 up! Growing up is tough...unless you have good friends to get you through it. This is the story of a girl and her three best friends fighting through the cruelty of high school. PG-13 for mild language and some themes.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: For the most part, I don't own any of these people. Tear. Well, I did add and subtract to some of their personalities, but for the most part I don't own them. I did, however, change names so that I won't get yelled at. I have this story on fictionpress.com as well, just so you know.  
  
~~~  
  
"Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up  
  
These are the best days of our lives  
  
The only thing that matters is just following your heart  
  
And eventually you'll finally get it right"  
  
"In This Diary" by The Ataris  
  
~~~  
  
The Best Days of Our Lives  
  
Introduction  
  
My name is Jill Black. Isn't that nice? I'm a junior in high school and I just turned sixteen. I'm a band geek (that would be a major understatement, by the way) and I play the clarinet and some trumpet. I have light brown hair and green-ish blue eyes. I enjoy long walks on the beach and picnics in the park with that special someone. Okay, maybe not.  
  
Anyway, I have three of the best friends anyone could ask for. We all get along and we all have tons of inside jokes with each other. We trust each other, we confide in each other, and we do everything with each other. My parents call us a "clique" because we're always together. It's amazing, though, that we get along as well as we do. To be blunt, this story is about the four of us.  
  
Now, for a quick wrap-up of who each of these people are... Please keep your excitement at a minimum level.  
  
First, there's Shelby Owen. Shelby is the oldest of the four of us as seventeen. She's going to be a senior. I'm not really sure how I became friends with her, actually. We just started talking and WHAM! We were friends. We talk on the phone all the time and when we're not talking on the phone, we're usually talking on the computer. She plays the clarinet as well and sits next to me at second chair (I'm first). Shelby and I have tons of things in common and we've been told that we "are one person copied onto another." Which, I suppose, is actually quite true.  
  
Then, there would be Lena Randall. Lena and I have known each other since we were in elementary school and we've been friends the whole time. Lena and I are a lot alike, but not to the extent of Shelby and I. We have a few differences, but that seems to be one of the reasons that we're as close as we are. We live really near each other, so we do a lot of car-pooling and going to each other's houses. Lena is second chair flute and is also really talented in singing, as well. Not to mention that she's a perfectionist when it comes to grades.  
  
Last, there's Jerod Leonard. Jerod is pretty much the most unique one of the whole bunch, mainly because he's the only guy. However, Jerod is probably the best guy. He's a very understanding person and always can make you laugh when you're down. Jerod and I became friends during the duration of my sophomore year. How is beyond me. We just started talking more, e-mailing each other, and eventually doing things together outside of school. Jerod is the biggest band geek out of all of us and is first chair trombone/euphonium. He can play every instrument except bassoon and oboe.  
  
We're kind of a miss-matched group. I think that the only thing that we all have in common is band. We're all in cross-country, too, but Shelby, Lena, and I didn't join until a year after we all became friends.  
  
The four of us have been through a lot, though. We've had our ups and our downs. Our laughs and our tears. But, whatever happens to us, we always seem to get through it and we're back to joking around and being ourselves as much as we had.  
  
I think the tip-off that we had become such good of friends was when our band director told us that she wished that when she had been in high school, she had had a great group of friends like we do. So, now we tend to cherish all of the moments that we have together more than we ever had. We are definitely blessed in more ways than one.  
  
Now, enough of my talking and onto my, or to be more precise, OUR story... But, to do that, I have to go back to the August before my sophomore year. 


	2. And So It Begins August 24, 2002

Disclaimer: For the most part, I don't own any of these people. Tear. Well, I did add and subtract to some of their personalities, but for the most part I don't own them. I did, however, change names so that I won't get yelled at.   
  
~~~  
  
The Best Days of Our Lives  
  
Chapter One: And So It Begins - August 24, 2002  
  
"Aaah!" I shouted, bracing myself for what was about to happen.  
  
"Oh, man, she fell!"  
  
"Look at the rut!"  
  
"Jill, are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, God," I mumbled as I slipped out of the bass drum harness. I looked around me. There were about five people staring intently at me. The only familiar face was my best friend since forever, Lena Randall. I put a hand to my chin and looked at the blood on my fingers. I tried to open my jaw, but instead there was a striking pain going through it. "No..." I managed to say and started to cry.  
  
"Someone go and get Miss Anderson," said someone. I was too busy crying in embarrassment and pain to notice who said it.  
  
"Come on, Jill, it'll be all right," Lena said to me.  
  
"Spit out the blood!" someone said. I obliged and almost puked when I saw the blood from where I bit down on my cheek.  
  
"Let me help you up, Jill," said someone, and they grabbed my arm. I looked to see one of our drum majors, Jerod Leonard, helping me to my feet.  
  
"She's coming with the car," said a freshman whose name I hadn't caught.  
  
"You're going to be okay," Lena said.  
  
"Good," I said, and then I put a hand to my jaw. With my luck, I had probably busted it.  
  
"I'll carry your drum back," Jerod offered.  
  
"Thanks," I muttered. I still wasn't all to clear on what happened.  
  
Miss Anderson's car pulled up along side us. "What happened?" she asked, near nervous breakdown.  
  
"Jill fell with the bass drum," Jerod said, helping me to the car.  
  
"She tripped in the tire rut back there," Lena said, pointing to a large rut in the grass.  
  
"All right, thanks," Miss Anderson said. "You going to be okay, Jill?"  
  
"Uh huh?" I said, putting my hand by my chin again. It was quite painful to move my jaw yet.  
  
Miss Anderson took off and instantly started talking. "From what I can tell, you took a nasty spill back there. You must have knocked your chin on the front of the harness. I really shouldn't have put you on the largest drum - it's more for someone taller, I think. Well, from what people have said, to wear one of those drums feels exactly like you're pregnant. I wouldn't know first hand, of course. I'll get you some ice as soon as we get back. Is your ankle okay? I saw you were limping slightly."  
  
"I think I twisted it," I said, trying to move my jaw as little as possible. Miss Anderson seemed to notice what I was trying to do.  
  
"You probably knocked your jaw slightly out of socket from the impact of the fall. Just keep moving it and it will eventually pop back in," she said, looking at me through her rearview mirror.  
  
"Great...," I said, sighing. "You know how much crap I'm going to get for this?"  
  
Miss Anderson laughed and said, "Yeah, I'd expect it. It's not everyday someone falls with a bass drum."  
  
"And it had to be me," I said with a slight smile, that sent shooting pains through my jaw, as we pulled into the school parking lot. I should explain. We were all at summer marching band practice. The field that we practice on (the actual football field) is over at the elementary school. Why? I have no idea.  
  
Miss Anderson helped me limp out of the car and hurried into the school, leaving me to limp alone. I started toward the entrance of the school.  
  
"Whoa, what happened?" asked my friend, Dennis.  
  
"I fell with the bass drum," I said, continuing towards the school, longing for some ice for my aching ankle.  
  
Dennis immediately fell into hysterics. "Are you serious? Oh, man, Jill! I knew you were a klutz, but falling with a bass drum?"  
  
"You're not helping the situation, Dennis," I said, narrowing my eyes, and closing the door to the school in his face.  
  
"Hey!" he yelled to me. I wisely chose to ignore him.  
  
I slowly made my way down to the band room, wincing every time I put weight on my right foot. I got a few strange looks from people, which I brushed off. I could just imagine what I looked like. Tear stained cheeks, my hair falling out of my pony-tail, a bloody chin, a fat lip (from what I could tell), grass stained jeans, and I was limping. A regular hottie, I knew it.  
  
I went into the room, and I sat down on one of the steps. Miss Anderson practically lobbed a bag of ice at me. "Are you going to be okay?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, lifting up my pant leg and revealing some pretty bad grass burn on my calf. I couldn't believe that I could be klutzy enough as to fall with the bass drum. I mean, come on.  
  
"Hey, are you okay, Jill?" It was a junior named Shelby Owen that I knew from when I was in Concert Band. We were also together on the drum-line, she was on cymbals, though, and so we didn't work together as much.  
  
"Yeah, I will be," I said, looking up at her. "Hey, have you seen Laura Jenkins? I'm supposed to get a ride home with her."  
  
"I don't think she's come back from the field yet. But, my brothers are going to leave without me, so I'll see you later, okay?" Shelby said, hurrying out of the door.  
  
I put the ice on my ankle, instantly feeling numbness. I felt like a doofus. I was the first casualty of an otherwise completely safe marching season. It kind of figures that it would have been me. Laura walked in and breezed past, not noticing me sitting on the floor. I watched her walk over to the bass drum closet and slide her own drum in. Wish we were all so lucky. Just then, Lena and Jerod walked in.  
  
"I suddenly feel your pain," Jerod said to me, readjusting the drum on his shoulders. "Where does this go?"  
  
"Top shelf, all the way to the left," I said, pointing to the closet.  
  
"Okay, thanks," Jerod said.  
  
"No, believe me, thank YOU," I said, smiling. Lena sat next to me.  
  
"Do you want any Tylenol or anything?" she asked. Lena always seemed to know when I needed something. She always knew when something was wrong with me and she always knew what I needed to make it better.  
  
"Yes, actually," I admitted. "I have a really bad migraine right now."  
  
  
  
"I don't blame you," Lena said, digging in her purse for some sweet relief for me. "I'm sure that falling when you're wearing a bass drum isn't the most pleasant experience."  
  
"No, I can't say that it is," I said as she poured two caplets into my hand. Then she handed me my water bottle; I had dropped it when I fell. "I got your folder, too," she said, lifting up her own folder to reveal mine.  
  
"Thank you," I said, gulping down the Tylenol. Jerod walked over to us.  
  
"Nice ice bag," he said, pointing to my leg. I laughed, noticing that Miss Anderson had just poured some ice into a Wal-Mart bag.  
  
"Real classy," I said with a smirk.  
  
"I don't think you can really have an ice bag with class," Lena said, laughing.  
  
"No, you could probably get one in a silk bag with pretty trim," Jerod said, using his hands to demonstrate the size of the bag.  
  
Lena and I both gave him a strange look. "And you would know this...how?"  
  
"I've got connections," Jerod said, nodding knowingly.  
  
"Jerod, Miss Anderson wants to talk with us," Briana, the other Drum Major, said with an air of authority that never seemed to leave her. To be truthful, I didn't like Briana all that much. She's really nice, sure, but she wasn't exactly the type of person that I would have picked for Drum Major. But, to each his (or her) own.  
  
When Briana disappeared into Miss Anderson's office, Jerod made a face and said, "One of you two had better get Drum Major next year instead of her," before he followed Briana into the office.  
  
Lena and I both laughed. Jerod was the over-all favorite of everyone's for Drum Major. He was actually truthful in his criticism, while Briana would tell us that we were good, even if we sucked (Something that happened quite frequently in our drum line. Actually, it would happen until the day we performed - then we would play perfectly.).  
  
"Well, I better go find my sister," Lena said, getting to her feet. She offered a hand to help me up and I took it. Lena's sister was like my own sister. I looked up to her as a sister and as a friend. She was always someone that I would go to when I needed advice or a shoulder to lean on.  
  
"I need to find Laura," I said. Lena hugged me (we always hugged when we said good-bye - it was habit), and she went off to find her sister.  
  
I saw Laura talking to some fellow sophomores, all of which I was pretty good friends with. When I approached, Andrea Taylor said, "You're looking pretty shifty, there, limping like that, Jill." 'Pretty shifty' was a strange inside joke that Andrea and I had picked up when we went on our Band/Choir trip down to Chicago.  
  
"Oh yeah," I said with a smile.  
  
"Jill, are you okay?" Laura asked me, her eyes filled with concern.  
  
"Yeah, but I won't be if anyone else asks me that," I said with a grin.  
  
"Hey, Jill are you-" started three different people at the same time.  
  
I held up a hand and said, "You are so lucky that I hurt myself, otherwise I'd beat the crap out of you all."  
  
"Sure, you would," Laura said. "But, we better go before my mom comes in here and starts hurting ME. See yah later," she said and waved over her shoulder.  
  
I walked with Laura and put my folder into my band locker. "Oh, dammit," I said. "I think I left my mallets down by the field again."  
  
"Again?" Laura asked with a laugh. "We can just have Aaron take us down there before practice tomorrow." Aaron was the percussion section leader and was a senior.  
  
"He is going to give me so much crap for falling tomorrow, isn't he?" I asked.  
  
"Between Aaron and Jake, you're really going to wish you hadn't fallen," Laura said as we reached the door to the band room.  
  
"Jill, wait a second!" came Jerod's voice. "Hey, I have your mallets." He held out my mallets. I had marked my mallets with rubber bands around the handles so I always knew that they were mine.  
  
"Oh, thanks, you just saved us a trip from going to the field with your brother tomorrow," I said, taking the mallets from him. Aaron was Jerod's older brother.  
  
"Ha, well, you're welcome," he said with a smirk. "See you guys tomorrow."  
  
"Yep, bye," I said and limped out of the room with Laura. 


	3. Who's The Loser? September 4, 2002

Disclaimer: For the most part, I don't own any of these people. Tear. Well, I did add and subtract to some of their personalities, but for the most part I don't own them. I did, however, change names so that I won't get yelled at.   
  
~~~  
  
The Best Days of Our Lives  
  
Chapter Two: The Birth of Loser - September 4, 2002  
  
"Okay, guys, you did good at our first game," Miss Anderson was telling the Wind Ensemble on the first day of school, "but we obviously have a bit to work out before the next one."  
  
"Yeah, like the second half of the show," yelled out a junior named Derek.  
  
Miss Anderson chose to ignore him and continued. "So, from now until homecoming, we're going to either be out on the practice field or out by the stadium, so please, wear appropriate shoes." She always called the field where the football games were the "stadium." It was just an open field, so no one was quite sure why she called it that. "We need to get Mission Impossible down and we have to start with Bohemian Rhapsody. I want to at least know Mission Impossible by the next game."  
  
"And that is?" someone asked.  
  
"Two weeks from Friday," Miss Anderson said.  
  
"And when is Homecoming?" someone else asked.  
  
"Exactly one month from today. Any more questions?" No one said anything - which was a miracle with this band. "Okay, then, grab your instruments, music, and field charts and head out to the stadium."  
  
Everyone got to their feet and began to rush towards the door. I went over to my locker to get me mallets and field charts. Of course, I find my mallets, but naturally my field charts were missing.  
  
"Gah," I said, searching frantically for my charts.  
  
"Jill, hurry up," Laura said to me, already wearing her bass drum and sunglasses in hand.  
  
"I can't find my field charts," I said, looking around in other people's lockers, just in case.  
  
"Did you look in the lost and found?" she asked.  
  
"I will," I said, looking at the large box in the corner. "Just go. Aaron is going to be leaving with the truck any second. I'll just carry my drum down."  
  
"Good luck," Laura said with a wink and she headed out the door.  
  
The room was mainly empty except for Miss Anderson in her office with a few stray students asking for reeds or music. I walked over to the box that read, "Lost and Found." I grimaced. I really didn't like this box. There were socks, shirts, shoes, water bottles, flip folders, lyres, and God only knows what else in there from last year that no one had claimed. With good reason, too, because it was a surprise if the clothing and what not hadn't grown mold on it.  
  
"Screw this," I said, refusing to touch the box. I walked over to Miss Anderson's office, which was now pretty much empty. The only people in there were Briana, Jerod, and another sophomore named Charlotte, Char, Leigh (Most people just called her Charli because her nickname and last name together made "Charli." I know, so witty). Briana was complaing about some freshman that weren't respecting her as Drum Major and Jerod was looking at the many shelves of music that were on the walls of Miss Anderson's office. Miss Anderson, meanwhile, was fixing what looked like Charli's saxophone with a screwdriver.  
  
"And then there's this other one that doesn't even bother with rolling their feet. I mean, come on," Briana said, crossing her arms peevishly. "It's not like they're being forced to be in marching band. It IS optional."  
  
Charli and I caught each other's and we exchanged a roll of the eyes. Jerod, meanwhile, sighed loudly from where he was looking at music.  
  
"Uh huh," Miss Anderson said, obviously not listening. "Well, Charli, try this out. It should hold for now, but I might have to take it in to get it fixed. It looks like one of your screws was stripped."  
  
"Okay," Charli said, taking the saxophone and clipping it back onto her neck strap. "See you on the field, Jerod," she said before leaving the room. She smiled at me as she left. Charli and Jerod, from what I knew from eavesdropping, were a "thing." They had been, I guess, since the beginning of the summer or so. Everyone pretty much had their money set on the two of them going out sooner or later, but neither of them had made the first move.  
  
"Jill, what can I do for you?" Miss Anderson asked.  
  
"I can't find my field charts. Any chance you found them?" I asked, grinning cheekilly. Jerod turned around and smirked at me.  
  
"Good job," he said.  
  
"Actually, I found these by the percussion closet," Miss Anderson said, pulling out my folder from the bottom of the mess that was her desk.  
  
"Thank you, SO much," I said, taking them from her.  
  
"That would be five bucks," Miss Anderson said, holding out her hand.  
  
"I'll just buy you some Subway," I said, throwing her a smile.  
  
"Oh, she knows you well," Jerod said.  
  
"Anyway, Miss Anderson," Briana started again, obviously not to pleased with the change of subject.  
  
"Briana, they're freshmen," Miss Anderson said, waving her hand dismissively as she got to her feet and picked up her keys. "They'll learn eventually."  
  
I turned on my heel and hurried down to the percussion closet. My drum, Stanley, as I had named it, and the second drum were still sitting in there. Gwen, the person that played the second bass, was in Concert Band, and not Wind Ensemble, so naturally her drum was still there. I quickly put the harness on the drum and I slid it onto my shoulders. I balanced my folder and my mallets between the harness and the drum and I started out the door as Miss Anderson was shuffling Jerod and Briana out of her office (Briana was still complaining about freshmen).  
  
I walked out of the school and began to walk over to the field. But, of course, I approached the slope that led down to a small field that seperated the school from the woods. The slope wasn't that high, but it was steep and I happened to be wearing sandals. Suddenly, the whole "appropriate footwear" idea seemed to make a whole lot more sense. I looked over my shoulder and, sure enough, Aaron had already left with the other percussion equipment.  
  
"Great..." I muttered under my breath as I began to slowly ease my way down.  
  
I heard the door open by the band office and I could indistinctly hear Briana's voice (ten bucks says she was complaining still) and the beep of Miss Anderson's car unlocking. I heard two car doors opening and Jerod said something. I turned around to see him walking towards me. 'Figures...,' I thought.  
  
"Need some help?" Jerod asked.  
  
"I'm kinda paranoid since the fall," I said with a smirk.  
  
"Don't blame you," Jerod said, giving me a look. "Do you want me to carry it?"  
  
"Are you serious?" I asked, already feeling the harness dig into my back.  
  
"Why not?" Jerod asked, glancing over his shoulder. "Miss Anderson and Briana are long gone anyway." He was right, I noticed. They had already taken off towards the field.  
  
"All right," I said, slipping the drum off of my shoulders and setting it on the ground. I watched as he put on the drum and stood up. I noticed then, somehow for the first time, that he towered over me. Seriously. This guy seemed to be a giant compared to my 5 foot 6.  
  
"What?" he asked, noticing me looking at him.  
  
"You're tall," I said, pointing out the obvious.  
  
"6 foot 3," he said, nodding down the slope. "How do we accomplish going down this?"  
  
"Are you serious? 6 foot 3? Holy crap," I said, slightly shocked. "Are you taller than Aaron?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm the youngest, yet the tallest," Jerod said. "So, the hill. How do we go down it?"  
  
  
  
"I have no idea," I said. "I always get a ride in the truck with Aaron."  
  
"Great," Jerod said. "Okay, I'll try this." He started to walk down it, slowly, as I ran down the hill. I always got a strange rush doing this. Don't ask.  
  
"Come on, let's go," I said to Jerod, watching the mellophone player, Jack, turn onto the trail.  
  
"I'd like to see you do this," Jerod said, walking down the rest of the hill onto flat ground.  
  
"No, I'll save that for the over exuberant Drum Major," I said, crossing my arms.  
  
"What can I say? I'm a nice guy," Jerod said.  
  
"You can call it that," I said, tilting my head and looking up at him.  
  
"What else would you call it?" Jerod asked.  
  
"Torture. You know what Sharon is going to say when we get down to the field?" I asked him. Sharon was the first bass drum and was the only full-time percussionist. Gwen normally plays flute, Laura plays oboe, and I play clarinet.  
  
"What is Sharon going to say to us, Jill?" Jerod asked, pretending to be fascinated.  
  
"First she's going to ask why you're carrying my drum. Then she's going to say, 'Jill, what are you going to do at the parade? Jerod can't carry your drum, you know,' " I said.  
  
"You speak from experience?" Jerod asked.  
  
"Yep. Tom carried my drum once and I got that lecture," I said. Tom played the tenor saxophone.  
  
"I pity you," Jerod said.  
  
"You should," I said. "After all, I'm such a loser."  
  
"Yep, you loser," Jerod said. And thus sparked the birth of the name-calling of "loser" in my friendship with Jerod Leonard.  
  
"Thank you for degrading my self esteem a little more," I said, putting a hand to my heart.  
  
"Anytime," Jerod said. "So, tell me about yourself."  
  
"Jerod, I'm ashamed," I said as we turned onto the trail that led to the field. "You call yourself a Drum Major and you don't even know about me."  
  
"And you know about me?" Jerod asked.  
  
"That's besides the point," I said, with a smile. "So, enlighten me."  
  
"What do you want to know?" Jerod asked.  
  
"Do you have any siblings other than Aaron?" I asked.  
  
"I have three older brothers. There's Aaron and Chad, the twins, and Mike."  
  
"Aren't you lucky," I said, then realized who he was talking about. "Chad LEONARD?"  
  
"The one and only," Jerod said, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Wow, I had the hugest crush on him for, like, two days my freshman year," I said, nodding to myself.  
  
"I'm probably not the person you want to tell this to," Jerod said. "Seeing as I'm his younger brother, you know."  
  
"Ah, good point," I said.  
  
"What about you?" Jerod asked. "Any siblings?"  
  
"Just my younger brother, Matt. He's six," I said. "A pain in the neck, too."  
  
"Haha, you're the oldest," Jerod said. "I pity you again. Loser."  
  
"I am NOT a loser!" I protested.  
  
"But you just said so yourself that you were one," Jerod said.  
  
"Once again that's besides the point," I said as we approached the field.  
  
"Sure," Jerod said. "Oh, there's Sharon..."  
  
"Jill, why is Jerod wearing your drum?" she asked.  
  
"Sharon, you should've seen her. It looked like she was going to roll down the hill by the school," Jerod said. "Besides, Aaron had already left and we don't need anymore accidents."  
  
"Yeah," I said, sounding stupid.  
  
"What are you going to do at the parades?" Sharon said. "Jerod can't wear your drum for you." She did an about face and walked over towards the others.  
  
"See?" I said under my breath. "Thanks, though."  
  
"No problem," Jerod said, unstrapping. "In fact, anything to piss her off."  
  
"There's the true Drum Major attitude I've heard so much about," I said with a smirk, putting my drum on.  
  
~~~  
  
Author's Note: Just so you know, Shelby and Lena will be featured more soon. I'm just doing this in order (somewhat) of how it actually happened. So, there's a couple more chapters before Shelby is more featured. Also, "Jerod" and I do actually call each other loser all the time... It's strange. Thanks for the reviews! Leave some more, okay? 


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